Climb on

We have not been climbing outdoors too much this year; Nate's schedule limits his time to go out, I would rather mountain bike, Casi is a busy Teenager, and Tanner does not climb. Somehow we managed a trip last weekend. Here is our day in bullet point form and iphone pictures.

• When your "I don't climb" kid says "I want to climb at Dogwood", you don't ask questions. You just go. 
• We should always bring snacks when we climb. 
• We were all hungry and irritable post climb. 
• Tanner would only go about 10 feet up the rock
• So Nate bribed him with gum and skittles.
• I did not recognize the power of gum and skittles to an eight year old.
• I loved seeing  my kids climb together.

Casi, having climbed once a week for two years at momentum, is fairly confident with the gear. She hooked Tanner onto the rope and belayed him during his climbs.

I love seeing her confidence and patience with Tanner as he worked out his fears on the rock.

I have video of them climbing together but I am having technical difficulties with the recorder and the download process.

Hmmm, maybe I will post it later. yea. MmKay!

Saying goodbye

"We're each of us our own ... bit of illusion fighting to emerge into something solid, something real."A Great and Terrible Beauty; Libba Bray

I went climbing with Nate and the kids. The first of the season. The rock still had that cool winter chill. I was the first to climb; leading a 5.7. An easy first-of-the-year climb with holds every few feet the size of your palm and ledges to stand on. I laced my shoes. They felt good and I wondered why my feet hurt on the rock so much last year.  I placed my hands to the rock. Felt its crisp, sharp edges with my hands.

I start the climb and a sharp pain rips through my toes. I toe in anyways and gave it my weight. "Oh, there's the pain" I think. I continue to the next hold and the next. I clip my first bolt but, I start to hesitate between moves. I begin using my arms to hold me to the rock; not wanting to place my weight on my feet. I clip into the second bolt and continue on. I notice the long pauses I am taking to give reprieve to one foot and then another.

Pause.

My mind races to find ways to convince myself to continue past the hurt. I no longer evaluate the climb. The pauses became longer.

At the third bolt, Nate suggests I come down. I clip in and call down to him. The way down is sketchy, ungraceful, unbalanced. I did not want anything to touch my feet.

Back on the ground, I collapse on a bench and start removing my right shoe. My hands shake.  Nate down on his knees, starts working on the left shoe.

My naked feet, reveal what I fear; deep, dark-purple toe joints. "Dam RA has been doing too well." I look at my shoes now lying on the ground. Then refocus. With some hesitation, I cram my feet into a different pair of shoes; one that does not force my toes to take my weight. I start climbing the rock again. I try not to think about what happened.

Days later, Casi speaks to me about it. "It was obvious you were in pain. You never come down from a climb."  We make eye contact and hold each others gaze. Neither of us knows what to say. The silence is awkward.

And, I still dont know what to say. About any of it. The event, perhaps, still holds too much emotion, pain, heartache, sadness, loss, annoyance, resentment, outrage, anger, hopelessness, and doubt. But I also feel thankful, promise, hope, determination, clear blue skies, love, family, and happiness.

I guess, not much changed. I can still climb and I will still reach the top, eventually, with or without, those dam shoes.

Red Rock

Last weekend Casi, her friend Meggie, Tanner, Nate and I went climbing at Red rock in Draper, Utah. We arrived early in the morning.  The air still had an early morning earthy smell and held the silence of winter. From the parking lot, the trail worked its way up the side of a hill. It was encased by the silent forms of oak brush. The last few reminders of fall clinging to their branches. As we walked leaves crunched under our feet and ghostly Gypsy moths fluttered by. It was beautiful and I was almost sad when the trail ended at the base of a rock wall. 

The rock wall was red interspersed with grey. It looked like someone haphazardly tossed large boulders together forming the wall. We had our choice of climbs. No one else was there.  Only Nate wakes up excited that the snow was melting and thinks "Wow! 50 degrees! Lets go climbing!". The thought of climbing in late fall only made the kids and myself drag our feet to  get ready. Dressing in layers, long sleeves, hats, gloves and coats. 

I lead the first climb, Facial fracture, a 5.7 and by the time I finished the climb my hands were numb from the cold. At times the only reminder I had, that I was holding onto a rock wall were the sharp ends of the rock pressing deep into my hands. Strangely enough, I enjoyed it. Rock climbing is an incredible sensation that focuses my mind and in some ways simplifies life.  

After I finished the climb, Cassidy followed next and then Tanner and Meggie. Cassidy completed the climb with only one "rest"!  After everyone had climbed Facial fracture, Cassidy asked if she could lead a climb. It would be  her first time leading and we were excited when she red pointed Baby teeth, a 5.6, on site (there is some climbing jargon for ya- if you need definitions click here). By now the kids are pretty much done with climbing. Spending their time running up and down the steep sloped hillside and bouldering the small boulders at the base of the wall. By the time we went home there would be three flesh wounds on two different kids. Nate and I however were still gung-ho about climbing. Nate lead our last climb, Dry Socket a 5.8 I followed after and cleaned the gear from the climb. 

  It was a great way to start our Sunday. Next time Nate wants to go climbing in late fall I might drag my feet a bit less.